


I Correspond with the Constellations in the Sky

by AbandonShip



Series: The Adventures of Derek the Turtle [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Jokes, Humor, Jokes, Language, M/M, One mention of Somnophilia, One mention of sexual harassment, Sexual Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbandonShip/pseuds/AbandonShip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm SO sorry. I've been really busy with school and two-part time jobs. I also went through the longest writer's block of my entire life. I hope you can forgive me. </p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	I Correspond with the Constellations in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I'm SO sorry. I've been really busy with school and two-part time jobs. I also went through the longest writer's block of my entire life. I hope you can forgive me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Our owner changes up the scenery this morning, taking us farther than his backyard, and into the woods. The three of us settle down by the narrow creek. 

The shallow water goes up to our tiny turtle knees, our round feet touching the bottom. Stiles sits on a large rock close to the edge, supervising us as we splash around together happily. He sings My Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira loudly to himself. 

Suddenly Derek appears out of nowhere, and frightens him.

“Oh my God!” Stiles shouts, and nearly falls off the rock. “I hate you.” He huffs.  


“No, you don’t.” Derek sits down beside him. There’s a long pause. “So, is it true?”  


“What?” He says.  


“Your hips don’t lie?” Derek asks.  


“Shut up” Stiles laughs. He notices an old book he’s holding. “What’s that?”  


“Oh, um I was hoping you might know,” Derek hands it over him. “I found it in my loft. One of the previous owners left it behind.” Stiles examines the old book, a dark grey hardback, three inches thick, its edges have worn out and the papers have yellowed over the years. Overall, it’s in good condition. He brushes away the dust with his sleeve, exposing a symbol outlined in red. “I’ve never seen it before,” Derek refers to the symbol.  


“Neither have I,” Stiles replies. He flips open the book, and turns through the pages. “It’s in Latin.”  


“Can you read it?” Derek asks.  


“Yeah, a little,” Stiles says, flipping to a random page. He points out one of the verses. “Eorum voces audiri, which means-” Suddenly, the blue skies darken into storm clouds. The book starts to tremble in Stiles’ hands. The hardback remains on the same open page as it flies out of his arms, and lands three feet away from them.  


“GET DOWN!” Derek shouts. He launches forward, driving them off the rock and onto the forest floor. He uses his body as shield while trying to cushion the landing for the human at the same time.  


Two electric lightning bolts strike the book’s crease and the top of our tortoise shells. Sparks soar out in all directions. All of it happens relatively fast. The skies clear up and turn back to blue when it’s all over.  


I can see Derek lying on top of Stiles. They’re cheek to cheek, limbs tangled together. I can tell his inner wolf is tempted to nuzzle and kiss his neck. He lifts off some of his upper weight to look down at him, their faces inches apart. There’s an intense heat between them.  


“Are you okay?” Derek asks, cupping Stiles’ cheek with his hand. Stiles looks up at him, puppy eyed and confused.  


“Yeah, I think so,” Stiles replies. “Are you?” Derek softly nods at him. It takes them a moment to process everything, before Stiles gasps, “the turtles!” Stiles pushes Derek off and runs over to check on his pets. Derek, slightly annoyed, follows.  


“What the fuck was that?” I speak for the first time ever. I gasp at myself.  


“Whoa” Stiles the tortoise comments, and then he gasps too.  


We apparently have vocal chords now…  


“Did…did they just talk?” Derek thinks he might be going insane.  


“Holy shit,” Stiles comments. “That’s awesome!”  


The tortoises step out of the water and approach their owners’ feet, looking up at both of them.  


“Derek,” I say. “I have been wanting to tell you this since the day you freed me from that shitty-as-fuck Petco cage,” I clear my tiny turtle throat. “You’ve got the best ass I’ve ever seen, and your torso completes me. Please fuck me till I’m nothing but a puddle of turtle soup.”  


The human’s jaw falls open in utter shock. The werewolf has never looked so violated.  


Stiles the tortoise becomes angry and jealous because Derek the tortoise is his mate. “No! He’s MINE!” He declares. He charges over and attacks Derek’s shoelace, trying to maul its plastic end to pieces.  


“Deaton,” Stiles suggests. “Deaton will know what to do.”

 

Stiles the tortoise and I sit on the examination table in the animal clinic.  


“This spell book gave them vocal chords,” Deaton states. He flips through the book’s pages endlessly.  


“No shit, Sherlock” I comment.  


“Watch your language, Derek!” Stiles sounds shocked.  


I laugh at him.  


“Do you seriously think none of that porn you watch hasn’t corrupted me?” I counter. Stiles’ eyes widen in shock, his face turning bright red. He opens his mouth to defend himself but no words come out.  


There’s an extremely uncomfortable silence in the room. The werewolf tightens his grip on the table, the veterinarian blinks, and the human wishes he were invisible.  


“How do we get rid of their voices?” Derek asks.  


“Magic has a tendency to leave behind a trail of evidence,” Deaton says. “Return to the location it was cast and bring the residue back to me. I’ll be able to make an antidote out of that.”  


“What does it look like exactly?” Stiles asks.  


“You’ll know when you find it.” Deaton replies.

 

Stiles and Derek stare down at us in our cage.  


“We’re going to the woods,” Stiles tells us. “We’ll be back soon.”  


“To fuck each other’s brains out?” I ask.  


“Can we come too?” Stiles the tortoise asks.  


The tension between the werewolf and the human intensifies.  


“No, that is not the reason we’re going to the woods.” Stiles sighs deeply.  


“We’re getting an ingredient for the antidote.” Derek reminds them.  


“And then you’ll fuck in the woods, right?” Stiles the tortoise asks.  


“There will be no fucking,” Stiles says.  


“At all?” Stiles the tortoise looks confused.  


“At all.” Stiles confirms.  


“They’re lying,” I say to stir things up.  


“So there will be fucking?” Stiles the tortoise asks.  


“Oh my God,” Stiles yells. “No! There will be no fucking!”  


“Fucking?” We ask in sync.  


“No fucking!” Stiles shouts.  


“Fucking!” We cheer with glee.  


“God dammit!!!” Stiles shouts before storming out of the room. Derek gives them a look, and then follows him out the door.

 

(Third Person)  


The car ride to the woods is quiet and awkward. Stiles decides to break the silence.  


“So uh, what are we going to expect after doing this?” Stiles asks. Derek looks over at him with a weird look on his face. “I didn’t mean it like we’re going to the woods to fuck each other – not that I don’t want to - I meant it like what are we looking for? Oh my God, I’m going to stop talking now.”  


“Good idea.” Derek says.

The two return to the scene together.  


“Hey, you know this stuff we’re looking for?” Stiles asks.  


“Yeah,” Derek grunts.  


“Did Deaton even say what it looks like?” He asks.  


“No.”  


“Ugh, figures,” Stiles sighs in frustration. “That guy is more suspenseful than Alfred Hitchcock.”  


“They were in the creek when they were hit right?” He asks.  


“Yeah.”  


The creek looks no different than before. All they manage to find is their glimmering reflections staring back at them.  


Derek glances downstream. “It must’ve travelled with the current,” he concludes, and starts following after it. Stiles follows.  


The stream grows narrower by the second - its ends at an abrupt closing. At last, they find what they’re looking for. Most of the magical residue has been pushed onto a dry edge of land. It’s a glistening black powder.  


“There,” Derek points it out.  


Stiles crouches low to collect a sample with the plastic tube Deaton gave him. When he’s finished, he screws on the lid and slips it into his pocket.  


“Alright,” Stiles confirms. “That should be enough.”  


“Let’s get out of here.”  


The werewolf and the human start walking back to the car.  


“Your tortoises talk like dirty old men, Stiles.” Derek says.  


“Oh, so now they’re my tortoises? Not our tortoises?” Stiles counters. “I thought we were partners!”  


“I gave Derek to YOU - because we made a deal,” Derek says. “You’re the one who went out and got another one.”  


“Wow! Nice!” Stiles shouts. “Would you say that in front of our turtles?”  


“Yes.”  


Stiles looks appalled.  


“Don’t bother Edward Cullening me tonight, you somnophilic!” Stiles shouts. “Sneaking into my window at night, watching me sleep! I know you do it. The turtles know you do it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Scott knows you do it. Your scent is all over the whole fucking house!”  


Derek hesitates, looking hurt by the accusation. His voice becomes raw and soft. “I’d never touch you like that…” Derek tells him. “Not while you’re…” He turns, and starts to walk away.  


“Hey!” Stiles whirls around, and follows after him. “Where are you going?”  


“I can walk to my loft from here,” Derek says. “I’ll see you at Deaton’s tomorrow.”  


“I can’t raise these turtles without you!” Stiles exclaims.  


“You’re such an idiot,” He rolls his eyes. “See you tomorrow”  


“Yeah, okay then…see you tomorrow,” Stiles says. “Goodnight, I guess”  


“Night” He replies, not looking back.

 

(First Person)  


Stiles returns looking sad. Scruffy isn’t with him. Stiles the tortoise and I try to cheer him up as he sets out a pair of pajamas on his bed, and starts to undress.  


“Yeah!” I shout. “Take it off!”  


“Woooooooooo!” Stiles the tortoise cheers.  


Stiles groans loudly, annoyed. He covers up his naked torso, and goes into the bathroom to change.  


“Awwww” We say in disappointment.

Stiles returns in his pajamas and crawls into bed. He struggles to get comfortable, having a difficult time ignoring our relentless complaints about not putting on a strip tease for us before.  


“Maybe you should try masturbating!” Stiles the tortoise suggests.  


I’m proud to say I’m wearing off on him.  


“Jerk it, Stiles!” I cheer.  


“Oh my God,” Stiles exclaims, annoyed. “Shut up!” He rolls over onto his stomach, and throws a pillow over his head, trying to shut out the noise.  


We continue to rant until he gets up and approaches us. He covers half of the cage with a blanket, leaving room for the overhead lamp to continue beaming down to keep us warm. Neither one of us is able to view the bedroom.  


“And I thought I had a dirty mind…” He softly mutters on his way back to the bed.

 

Stiles the tortoise and I walk freely across the examination table. Stiles, Scott, and Deaton surround the examination table, discussing the sample he collected the night before.  


Derek walks in at the last minute and finds them in the back room.  


“Hey,” Derek says. “Sorry, I’m late.”  


“That’s alright,” Deaton says, examining the tube of powder in his hands.  


“What did you figure out?” Derek asks.  


“I’m afraid this kind of magic is…permanent.” Deaton says.  


“Wait! Wait! Hold on!” Stiles shouts. “Are you trying to tell me our turtles will never stop sexually harassing me?!”  


“Your turtles” Derek corrects.  


Stiles glares at him.  


“Yes,” Deaton tells him. “I’m afraid so.”  


“Great…that’s just great!” Stiles exclaims.  


“Scott,” I say. “Your uneven jawline turns me on.” He has already caused me to pee a few times out of excitement.  


Scott uncomfortably shifts his weight from one foot to the other while lightly caressing his jaw.

 

We return home to find Peter standing in the corner of his bedroom.  


“Ugh, what do you want?” Stiles groans. He puts us back in our cage.  


“No need to be rude, Stiles,” Peter says.  


“Get the fuck out,” Stiles demands, pointing a finger at the open window. “Or I’ll scream for my dad.”  


“Relax,” Peter says. “I’m just here to talk.”  


Stiles opens his mouth to scream. The werewolf slaps a hand over his mouth, and pins him up against the wall.  


“Will you please just listen to me?” Peter snaps. “I’m so sick of people not trusting me.”  


Stiles bites into the palm of his hand causing him to yell out in pain and release him. Stiles rushes over to pull out the metal baseball bat hidden under his bed.  


“Get the fuck out!” Stiles threatens. When Peter takes a step towards him, Stiles swings at him. The wolf catches the bat, tears it out of his hands and breaks it in half.  


HOLY SHIT. Now that’s impressive. DAMN.  


He snatches the can of pepper spray off his desk and points it at him.  


“It’s about Derek!” Peter throws his hands up in surrender.  


“What about Derek?” Stiles’ eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Is he okay?”  


“Yes, Derek’s fine,” Peter says. “I just need to tell you something about him. It’s important.”  


Just a reminder that we’re both watching all of this shit go down from our cage.  


“Kali tried to kill you,” Peter says bluntly.  


“No shit, Sherlock.”  


“And the rest of alpha pack attacked Derek, Isaac, and me.” Peter says.  


“Get on with it.”  


“When a werewolf heals at the sight of another person,” Peter explains. “It means that person is their one true mate.” The strange look the human gives him makes him roll his eyes dramatically. “Derek’s wounds healed the moment he saw you,” He says. “Derek and you are mates.”  


The human’s heart flutters with excitement. He wants it to be true.  


“You’re lying.” Stiles says.  


“Why would I lie about something like that?” The wolf says.  


Stiles sits down on the edge of his bed to let it all sink in.  


“I…I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a dick.” He mumbles.  


“My nephew may be far too blind to see it himself,” Peter says. “But even a fool could tell he’s in love with you.”  


“Why are you telling me this?” Stiles asks.  


“Because I’m sick of you two scampering around each other like two confused puppies,” Peter says. “Anyways...I'm out," and heads for the window.  


“Wait,” Stiles stops him. “Does Derek know?”  


“Know what?”  


“That we’re mates.”  


“I don’t know,” Peter says. “I guess that’s something you’ll need to figure out yourself.”  


Stiles seems to still be in shock. Peter makes his way over to the open window.  


“One last thing,” Stiles stops him again. He casually walks up to him, and kicks him in the balls. Peter grunts and cups his groin in pain. “That’s for breaking my bat…and a lot of other shit.”  


We’ve never been more proud of him.

 

The human sits out in the grass with us as usual, reading a book on werewolves.  


“Hey,” a familiar voice says out of nowhere.  


Scruffy stands not too far away from our favorite place. He has his fists shoved in his pockets, his legs spread apart in a V, and is looking hot as fuck. God knows how long he’s been watching us for.  


Stiles doesn’t scream or jump out of his skin like he usually does. It’s almost as if he has been expecting him.  


“We need to talk.” Stiles says.  


“Is everything okay?” He asks.  


“Peter came over last night,” Stiles starts.  


Derek’s eyes flash ice blue. “What.” He growls softly.  


“It’s okay,” Stiles reassures him, “He didn’t try anything I swear.”  


His nostrils flare, “His scent is all over you,” Derek snarls, agitated that he didn’t notice it before.  


“I threatened to scream for my dad,” Stiles explains “So, he pinned me up against the wall.”  


“What did he want?” Derek demands an answer.  


Stiles the tortoise and I watch them in silence, stunned.  


“Um, he actually came over to tell me something,” Stiles says, “Something about us.”  


“What about us?”  


“After Kali tried to kill me and the rest of the alpha pack attacked you,” Stiles explains “Peter told me you healed at the sight of me.”  


Derek doesn’t even flinch. “What’s your point?”  


“Werewolves apparently heal at the sight of their one true mate.”  


Derek’s eyebrows rise. “I’ve never heard that before. He’s probably lying.”  


“I thought so too at first,” Stiles says, “But the research I’ve been doing is telling me otherwise.” He flips open his book on werewolves to the page he has bookmarked. There’s a whole chapter on mates called Mating Habits.  


The werewolf looms closely over the human’s shoulder. Stiles points to the paragraph that confirms it all. Derek’s eyes skim through the sentences.  


“Huh.” Derek grunts.  


Then he rereads the paragraph to make sure he didn’t read it wrong.  


“Are you sure?”  


“Pretty sure, yeah” Stiles says.  


There’s a long moment of thought and hesitancy.  


“You have a choice, you know. This doesn’t have to change anything between us,” The werewolf says quietly. The look on his face is screaming not-if-you-don’t-want-it-to.  


“Yeah sure, of course it doesn’t.” The human looks and sounds disappointed.  


The tension between them grows worse than before – not to mention awkward as fuck.  


“I have to go now,” Derek heads towards the woods.  


“Okay, see you around I guess,” Stiles says.  


“Yeah,” Derek replies. “See you around, Stiles.”  


And then he’s gone just like that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently working on a ton of other fics. They're so long they could be novels. I'm going to start working on the next part to this soon. Hopefully it won't take too long.


End file.
